Goodnight, My Angel
by Fire-Wind1
Summary: Trowa's thought on Quatre and the war...34, 43 SHONEN AI


Author's notes: I wrote this fic a while ago, when I was in a sappy/fluffy mood. So if you end up with a toothache from this, I'm not gonna pay the dentist bill. Though it wasn't originally angsty...*shrug* Guess my muses switched on me again. I know it's short, but the dumb plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone– it was stalking me, I tell you! -_-;;

  


Pairings: implied 3+4, 4+3

  


Rating: PG

  


Warnings: shonen-ai, much fluff, OOC?, Trowa's POV, sorta angsty

  


Please leave a review if you enjoy it! Flames are welcome too, cuz they keep me warm now that it's December. ^-^

  


Goodnight, My Angel

  


I stand in the doorway, transfixed by the beautiful melody that penetrates the stillness of the mansion. I've always loved the sound of not just the violin, but music in general. I took up flute when I was five, and fell in love with it. I'm glad I was finally able to meet someone who cares as much about music as I do.

  


His eyes are closed; he is entirely absorbed in the song. It's a slow, melancholy piece– low, rich, and mournful. You would have to be deaf not to hear the emotion he puts into his playing. Anyone else would not find this particular piece fitting for such an energetic and kind person, but I know otherwise. The other pilots would say the same.

  


The last rays of sun filter in through the curtains and catch in his hair, and I swear he looks like an angel. He very well could be, I find myself musing. I shake my head at the thought. I know he is no angel; none of us are. I do not dare to think how many we have killed for "peace." Fighting for peace. Somehow I know that can't be right.

  


I snap to the present as I feel a change. I notice the tears silently falling down his face as he plays the final chords, letting the violin fall softly to the carpeted floor, forgotten. He tries to choke back a sob, and I feel a wave of sadness and guilt, as if I were an empath myself. Then again, I have always been able to read his emotions as plainly as a book. The day I met him I knew that he was not the innocent he let on to be. He is just as scarred as all of us, if not more. He has a family; he shouldn't have to fight. He has something to live for, something the rest of us don't have.

  


He follows the violin to the floor, giving up the fight against his emotions. It just isn't fair that he should feel the pain of those he's killed on top of his own guilt. I honestly don't know how he can stand it, and still leave on his cheerful mask day after day. It is something I will always admire about him.

  


I want to go over to him, comfort him. Tell him that everything will be okay. But it's a lie. Everything will not be okay. No matter what, there will always be wars, and sacrifices along with them.

  


He does not notice as I approach him slowly. I don't know if he will be upset that I was here, and I don't want to hurt him anymore than he has already been hurt. His hands are covering his face, and I realize how vulnerable he looks. So different from when he's in Sandrock, or being controlled by the Ze- I stop myself. That wasn't his fault. I thought he would die of guilt after that, especially after nearly killing Heero and me. It's not fair of me to even think of that.

  


I pick him up slowly, careful not to disturb him. I don't think he is aware of his surroundings. He unconsciously pulls closer to me, drawing his knees closer to his chest. He is still crying, but softer than before. His choked sobs slowly subside, resulting in only the occasional hiccup. He looks exhausted, and I don't blame him.

  


I walk slowly and carefully, so as not to disturb him or the others. They are most likely trying to sleep, as it is now long past dark.

  


When I reach his room, I glance down at him. He appears to be asleep, as his crying has stopped completely. I can still see the tears that stained his cheeks only minutes before, though they don't mar his still-angelic appearance. It's true; he still looks angelic when his fa de fades away like this. I smile. He truly is beautiful.

  


I nudge the door open carefully with my foot and carry him to the bed. I lay him down gently and pull the covers up around his shoulders. He smiles slightly in his sleep. I brush the bangs out of his face and turn to leave. As I turn out the light, I turn back once more to face his sleeping form, whispering "Goodnight, my angel" as I softly close the door.

  


I almost miss his barely audible response as I start down the hall to my room.

  


"Thank you Trowa...you're my angel, too..." 

  


~*~

  


Owari

  


So, you like it? Hate it? Please review!!!

  


Wind


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